


Healing

by fosterthebucky



Category: Marvel (Comics), New Warriors
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Robbie is depressed, What else is new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 17:16:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14193807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fosterthebucky/pseuds/fosterthebucky
Summary: Robbie can't get out of bed for a week. Vance is worrying.Healing isn't linear.





	Healing

**Author's Note:**

> I really needed to practice, because I haven't written in over a year. So I took this quote:  
> “If you put this scene on a movie screen, is it called a happy end?” (Good Part, AJR)  
> And I ran with it, and this was the result. There's a lot of dialogue.  
> Hope you like it.

Robbie looked down at his hands, watching his fingertips twitch in anticipation. He felt the jolt in his spine telling him to stand, to clench his fists, to move at all. But something held him back.

He sighed and let his hands drop to his lap. He had already been sitting on the edge of his bed for 20 minutes.

He had been in bed for days.

It hurt to admit, but some days were just impossible for Robbie. His mind just wouldn’t clear, or the weight in his chest was just too heavy. It hurt to breathe, or to think, or to feel. So he would lay there, numb. Silent.

After a long silent debate, Robbie sighed and surrendered to his feelings again. He wasn’t strong enough to fight them today, he just didn’t have the energy. As he laid back down, he wondered how he ever managed to get up before- just being alive right now was overwhelming. He felt like crying. He felt like screaming. He felt like-

He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

-

“Are you getting up today?”

Vance’s voice, which was usually music to Robbie’s ears, pricked at his temper today. He rolled over and hummed deeply, not giving a clear response. He knew the glare he was giving was overkill, but he wanted to get the point across. _Go away. I’m feeling bad._ Vance sighed.

“Robbie.”

Robbie huffed this time, covering his eyes when Vance opened the curtains. Vance got the message and closed them again. Robbie didn’t move again until he felt the bed sag. A gentle hand landed on his arm, then tugged softly at his shirt sleeve. Robbie let his arm move. He wanted to wipe the concerned look off Vance’s face. He wanted to rearrange it. He wanted to-

“I know you’re not okay. Do you need to talk?”

Robbie tried to groan, but it came out sounding like a choked whine. He rolled over, putting his back to Vance. _Go away. I’m feeling bad._ Deep down, he knew he desperately needed to talk through this. He knew it wouldn’t go away. He knew he needed the help.

But he couldn’t get the words to come out.

Vance rubbed his shoulder, trying to coax Robbie back into looking his way. There was very little he could do when Robbie got this way, and it drove him insane.

He wanted to force Robbie out of bed, the way his mom did to him in middle school. He wanted to drag the blankets off him and leave. He would wait for him to get dressed, and smile at him when he came out the door. That way things would be okay, and they could laugh about it later. But he knew it wouldn’t work like that, it couldn’t. This wasn’t the same.

It broke his heart.

“Robbie. Please.”

Robbie gave in to the guilt and rolled back over, looking Vance in the eyes with desperation. _Go away. I’m feeling bad._

_Please._

“What can I do?”

Robbie’s gaze drifted slowly- to Vance’s lips, his neck, his cheekbones. Anywhere but his soft, apologetic eyes.

Anything but that.

“Nothing.”

The word slipped from Robbie’s lips quietly.

Vance’s shoulders dropped.

-

The next morning, Robbie tried again.

He sat on the edge of the bed silently, considering his options. Stay in bed, or get up. Face today, or ignore it.

What day was it, even?

He sighed. He was already starting to give up. He felt the familiarity of the sheets drawing him in. _What if you can’t do it today? Just go back to bed. It’s not worth the energy. It’s not worth your time. It’s not worth anyone else’s-_

“Robbie?”

Robbie jolted. His head whipped up to address the voice at the door: Vance was there, wide-eyed. He looked befuddled.

Robbie’s eyes drifted back toward the floor.

“Hi.”

Vance walked over and took his place next to Robbie on the bed. The warmth of his body created goosebumps on Robbie’s cold skin. It was completely overwhelming. Robbie wanted to tell him everything.

“Are you going to?”

“... Going to what?”

“Get up?”

Robbie was silent for a moment. Once again, he had to weigh his options.

“I don’t know.”

He didn’t have to look up to know that Vance was giving him that look again: concern and pity, wrapped together into something that made bitterness prickle in the back on Robbie’s mind. He hated feeling so bitingly about someone he loved so much, but he also wasn’t stupid. He knew the anger and hate that look gave him was misdirected. He knew it was for himself.

“Okay.”

One word made Robbie’s head spin. He looked up at Vance with must’ve been pure confusion on his face, because Vance had to stifle a chuckle.

“What?”

“What do you mean by ‘okay’?”

“Okay. You don’t know, and that’s okay. I’ll sit here until you do.”

Robbie looked away and sighed.

“And what if I _don’t_ get up?”

Vance was quiet. He was choosing his words very carefully. Robbie hated it. It made him feel like a child.

“I can leave. Or I can stay with you. Whichever you’d like.”

“Stop pretending you don’t hate this,” Robbie snapped. He regretted letting the words slip out.

“Hate what?"

“This. When I’m like this. When I stay in bed. When I’m absolutely useless.”

“I do hate it, but not because you’re useless.”

Robbie huffed in response to that.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, what?”

“You can’t say it’s not annoying. There’s no way it doesn’t piss you off, even a little.”

Robbie wasn’t looking, but he could tell Vance was shaking his head. Vance reached for his hand. He yanked it away.

_God, I’m being awful._

“It’s not.”

Robbie groaned in frustration, whipping his head to glare at Vance. The poor guy had the most complex look on his face: it was somewhere between confused and concerned, with just a trace of offended. If Robbie weren’t so busy having his moment, he may have laughed.

“Why are you being like this?”

Robbie just continued glaring, hoping Vance would get the message. _Go away. I’m feeling bad._

“Robbie. Talk to me.”

Robbie looked away. He just barely heard Vance add, “please.”

The tenderness in his voice was too much.

“I hate myself.”

Vance shifted closer. He reached for Robbie’s hand again. Robbie let him have it this time.

Vance was quiet for a long time. He rubbed his thumb back and forth across Robbie’s palm, as though he was looking for the right words in the lines that crossed it.

“I don’t think you’re useless. And I don’t get annoyed with you. I just get-"

“Concerned,” Robbie harmonized. He hated that word. 

“And upset,” Vance added, “That you won’t talk to me. I know you’re hurting.”

Robbie sighed and let himself lean into Vance. For the first time in a week, his emotions weren’t overpowering him. He felt the tightness of his chest begin to ease.

“I want to get up. I do.” Vance lifted Robbie’s hand up to his lips and kissed it gently.

“Then do it.”

“I can’t.” Vance hummed his disapproval.

“Why not?”

Robbie took a moment to consider.

“Because… what if it turns out bad? Like, what if I can’t do it?”

“Then I’ll be there.”

Robbie shut his eyes, giving into the calm Vance exuded. He could feel himself swimming in it.

“And we can sit on the floor and you can talk and talk until your throat is sore. About anything. Everything.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Robbie held his breath.

“... Okay.”


End file.
